


A Makeshift Family

by venea_taur



Series: The Great Darius Tanz [4]
Category: Salvation (TV)
Genre: 2x13, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Episode Tag, Family, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-21 00:41:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16148942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venea_taur/pseuds/venea_taur
Summary: Darius went from 0-60 awfully quickly for my liking in that last episode of season 2. Out in the field, his body decides to tell him enough is enough, leaving him in the care of his friends.Written for the Bad Things Happen Bingo, prompt: Worked Themselves to Exhaustion





	A Makeshift Family

**Author's Note:**

> This story turned out way longer than I anticipated but I'm mostly happy with it. I've taken a couple liberties with events and the set up of Tanz Industries. The first is that I don't quite buy that Darius was just sleeping for 44 days, so I've put him in a coma for much of that time. The second is a small medical facility in Tanz Industries. Given the type of work they do, I can imagine Darius having some sort of emergency setup until paramedics arrive.

None of them keep track of how long they’re out in the middle of the field, staring up at an alien object parked in front of the moon. It doesn’t occur to them that they should do something else until Darius takes another step forward and stumbles. They all are quick to step forward to catch him. He tries to shake off their hands, but his efforts only make him more unsteady and he goes to his knees. Liam and Harris grab him before he can fall any further.

“I’m fine,” Darius says, voice lacking his usual authority with its hoarseness.

“Try again, Darius,” Liam says lightly. With how the older man works, full boar until a problem is solved, it’s hard to remember that just twelve hours ago he was just waking up from a coma.

“Just… a little tired. Give me a… minute.” He sinks down to his knees, leaning over, one hand pinching at his eyes and the other supporting him against the ground. Liam and Harris kneel down on either side, still holding on to him and Grace moves in front, kneeling herself to assess his condition. Jillian stands a short distance away, feeling the guilt again over having put Darius in this position.

Down next to him, the three can’t miss the heavy, careful breathing or the paleness of his face. Tremors run through the arm supporting him and the one on his face shakes.

“What’s wrong,” Grace asks.

“Just a little tired, like I said.” There’s an unsteadiness in his voice.

“Try again with a little honesty this time,” Harris says. Darius sighs and seems collapse more.

“Everything, I think.” It pains him to admit that much.

“Anything critical? Like 911 type emergency,” Liam asks.

“No.” Darius shakes his head slightly, gasping and falling as his arm holding him up collapses. He feels the others’ hands on him, hears them talking as they turn him over and ease him down on the cold, wet ground. Still, it feels nice. He turns over on his side, ignoring the questions and attempts to stop him. He sinks his hands in the grass and stops short of lying on his stomach but leans enough that his forehead can enjoy the cool grass as well. The audible sigh is unavoidable.

“We really should get him back to Tanz,” Grace says. “He’s burning up.”

“Stay here,” Darius slurs.

“No, you can’t, Darius. You’re sick. You need to be back in bed, resting.”

“No.” He’s the CEO of Tanz Industries, he was President of the US, he thinks. Surely that must count for something in this situation.

“Neither of those makes a difference right now,” Grace says gently, knowing that he doesn’t realize everything that’s going on at the moment. “Let’s see if we can get him to his feet.”

“’m fine ‘ere.”

“No, you’re not.”

It takes a few attempts, but they do manage to get him to his feet, though it’s clear that with his too-pale face, careful breathing, and unsteadiness, he’s not going to be able to make the trek back under his own power. Even now, he’s leaning heavily against Harris.

“Okay, Jillian, Grace, you two go get the car. Bring it as close as you can. I’m going to have to carry him there,” Harris says.

“Are you sure,” Grace asks.

“I will be anyway if we try to make him walk back. Why put any of us through the stress of trying to keep him going. He’s always been a lightweight and he’s lost some weight in the several weeks, anyway.” Though he’s had therapy while unconscious to help keep his muscles from atrophying, the lack of activity has necessarily meant a decline in muscle. Darius is still fit, but no longer fighting fit as he once was.

“I’ll stay to help,” Liam says even though he knows he’s never had the strength to carry someone more than a child. He’d try to for Darius, though.

“Go. The sooner we get him back home, the better, I think,” Harris says. With a nod, Jillian and Grace leave them, walking quickly back to the car. Meanwhile, Harris bends down to pick Darius up while Liam steadies the largely unaware man. That Darius doesn’t gripe one little bit, not even a slurred comment, about being carried bridal style, worries Harris more than he lets be known. Instead, he quickens his pace. In his arms, he can feel the heat from Darius better as well as the tremors and occasional periods of heavy breathing. He knows the man better than he lets on with the others. And while part of him suspects exhaustion, it’s impossible to rule out anything, not after the torture and coma. Who knows what else could be lingering.

He pushes that out of his thoughts though because it doesn’t help him right now. Now, he has to focus on staying strong enough to carry Darius’ almost dead weight to their SUV because he knows that Liam, try as he would, wouldn’t be able to carry Darius.

Fortunately, Jillian and Grace meet them little more than halfway there. It’s just about when Harris is beginning to question his strength. They maneuver Darius into the back seat, buckling him in the middle with Grace and Liam on the sides. Harris takes the driver’s seat and Jillian stays in the passenger. There’ll be some apologizing for the damage to the ground later, but he hopes that it’ll be forgiven given the circumstances.

There’s some debate about where to take Darius. Grace’s house is closer, but Tanz is familiar and at that moment, he makes the decision to go for the familiar. As much as he can’t stand working with the man professionally, he does care for him as a friend and he knows that Darius would prefer even a bed in Tanz industries’ small medical bay over an unfamiliar bed at Grace’s.

It means the drive is longer but Darius doesn’t seem to complain. He’s not quite asleep as he’s muttering about a hummingbird and neutrinos and ice tea. It makes no sense to him, but Liam and Grace seem to understand and try unsuccessfully to calm him.

When he pulls up to the entrance of Tanz Industries, Alycia is standing outside with a gurney. She brings it up by the car before he even gets out.

“I wasn’t sure if you got my text,” Liam says.

“I didn’t. Not right away. TESS told me what happened,” Alycia says. They work together to move Darius from the backseat to the gurney, which is where he seems to offer his first real vocal complaint in a bit.

“No,” he yells out. “Not telling. Not telling,” he begins muttering. He tries pushing himself off the gurney and nearly succeeds as the movement catches them off guard but they stop him before he can inflict more damage on himself.

“You’re safe, Darius,” Grace says calmly, running a hand in his hair. As he was coming out of the coma, it worked to calm him during the nightmares. She keeps repeating it as they roll him in, letting Alycia lead the way. They go to an area of Tanz Industries none of them have been in before.

“This is the medical bay. It’s not fully equipped, but it has the basic emergency supplies. Darius likes to be prepared,” Alycia says.

“Alright.” Harris looks around, finding familiar equipment in the small bay. There’s one other bed, but it looks more like an emergency treatment room than a full medical treatment room. “Let’s get him a little more comfortable. Shoes, socks, and jacket need to come off definitely. Are there scrubs in here, Alycia?”

“There should be.” Alycia goes looking around.

“He’ll be more comfortable in those than in his jeans and shirt.” Harris then searches for a thermometer, pulse ox meter, and EKG, if the place has one. Darius once told him of the plans to build this room but never specified the details.

“What’re you looking for,” Liam asks.

“We need to see his vitals. Temperature, oxygen, and probably a reading on his heart would be good. See if you can find an IV kit, saline, and some painkillers.”

“Wait a second. Do you know what you’re doing?”

“Medic training in the Air Force. It might be a little dated, but yes, I know what I’m doing. Now, please go find those things. Painkillers first, I think.”

Liam nods, deciding to believe Harris. No one else, not even Grace seems to be questioning him, so Harris must be telling the truth. Still, it seems odd to have him treating the man he despises so much.

By the time Alycia finds the scrubs, Grace and Jillian have stripped Darius of the jacket, shoes, and socks. Alycia goes to work on unbuttoning the top, leaving the other two women to the pants. It’s then that Darius starts fighting again, twisting and mumbling the same words they’d heard during his nightmares: “No, please don’t. You’re killing everyone. I can save them. Don’t. Won’t tell you anything. No matter what.” The words are punctuated at times with gasps and screams as his mind replays the torture.

Strangely, it’s not the screams that stops them. That much they’re used to, especially Jillian. Nor do they stop when he’s twisting, making removing his clothing difficult. It’s the sudden cessation of everything. Then, in their silence, they hear a new train of speech, low and gravely with exhaustion but full of fear and pleading.

“How can you do this, Nick? To your own nephew. Your boy, you always said. You said you loved me. You cared for me. How? How could you do this?” There’s a pause. “Take them at least. They’re not like you but they don’t deserve to be left here. ‘lease, just don’ let ‘em die.”

“We’re safe, Darius,” Grace says, taking his hand in hers. She touches his face gently with the other, speaking quietly and reassuringly to him. “You saved us. We’re safe.”

“G’ace?” Darius turns his head in her direction, his eyes opening halfway. “Wh’re are we?”

“Back at Tanz Industries. You’re safe. We all are, but we’re trying to help you.”

“Nuh, ‘m fine.” Darius tries to roll off the bed. Grace stops him, not surprised by the lack of strength in his efforts.

“You’re sick, Darius. Just let us help you. It’s your friends. You can trust us.”

“’riends? No, no friends,” he says, emphasizing the last word though it takes an effort.

“Yes, your friends.” Grace looks to the others at a loss of what to do to further calm him.

“Just calm down, Darius,” Liam says, moving back towards the bed. “We’re all here to help you.”

“No. I’m sorry. Didn’t fail. Just need more time. I can solve it. I know I can. Not a failure, disa… disa… disappoin’men’. I just need to solve for x.” Darius starts moving again, harder this time. They all move quickly to hold him down. He fights for a moment or two more before giving in.

“Darius?”

There’s no response but he’s still breathing, which Liam takes as a good sign.

“Let’s get him changed and taken care of while he’s more cooperative,” Harris says. “He’s fine. He’s just unconscious. It’s going to be easier on him to do all of this in this state than when he’s awake and agitated.”

The others agree reluctantly and go back to work. Grace and Jillian get him changed into scrubs. Harris checks his temperature, finding it hovering just over 100. Alycia hands him the IV equipment, which he takes and works on starting an IV. Meanwhile, Liam attaches the pulse ox meter.

“Has anyone found a painkiller? Preferably one that is intravenous,” Harris says. He’s taping down the IV and starting the saline running. He knows that Darius has likely not stopped at all for food or drink beyond something caffeinated. Part of the confusion is from some dehydration combined with low blood sugar. Once he woke up, they’d have to look to getting him to eat something but first hydrating and taking care of the headache would have to do.

“Is that really necessary,” Grace asks when he starts hooking up the EKG. “His heart’s fine, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Liam says. “Seems like overkill.”

“You two have known Darius for some six months. I’ve known him for much longer and if there’s one thing I know about him, it’s his ability to turn the simplest illness into something serious. So, yes his heart is probably fine but I’d like to know for sure,” Harris explains.

“He’s right,” Alycia adds. “I saw him work straight through a nasty cold until it turned into pneumonia and he almost had to be hospitalized. But the second you sneeze, he sends you to the nurse to get checked out. You know this little room used to be a chair in a closet almost. I amped it up when he was down with pneumonia. He needed emergency treatment and we couldn’t do anything. It took EMTs almost too long to get out here.”

“I thought he was just a germophobe or something. He sent me down here because I had a sniffle one morning and wouldn’t believe it was allergies until the nurse confirmed it,” Liam says.

“If he’s got something going on he’s terrible about looking after himself but he’s always good with his employees, especially his friends.”

“Did anyone find a painkiller,” Harris asks again. The EKG is steadily beeping in the background, giving him some relief that Darius is okay.

“Oh, yeah,” Liam holds up a sealed, pre-measured syringe. “Will this work?”

Harris examines it for a moment. “Yeah. Thanks.” He sterilizes the IV port, opens the package, and injects the painkiller after making sure there weren’t any air bubbles.

“We’re going to need to eat and so is he,” Grace says. “I tried to get him to eat something but he was always too busy or in pain.”

“There’s still food in the break room,” Alycia says. “We kept it stocked while we stayed here.”

“Good. Let’s go see what the options are.”

“There’s still some frozen meals in the Treehouse. They’re probably still good.”

“Why don’t you and Liam go raid the Treehouse while Jillian and me find what’s in the break room,’ Grace says. The others agree and quickly go their own ways, leaving Harris to look after Darius, though the man seems to be doing little more than lying unconscious or sleeping.

“Wha…?” Darius mutters, head twitching as he wakes.

“Stay calm, Darius. You’re safe. We all are.” Harris puts one hand on his arm and runs the other through Darius’ hair when he still doesn’t calm. “You’re back home and you need to calm down. You’re sick and this agitation isn’t helping.”

“’arris?” Darius cracks his eyes open.

“You back with me fully?”

“What?”

“You’ve been out of it. Do you remember what day it is?”

“Day three. The asteroid,” Darius starts. Harris pushes him back down gently.

“Isn’t an asteroid. But that’s not important right now. You’ve run yourself into the ground, again. I thought you’d outgrown that.”

“I only do it when necessary.”

“Right.” Harris pauses. “How’re you feeling? And be honest. There’s no one but me here right now.”

“Better than before.” Darius swallows heavily, still feeling groggy and heavy as he lays there.

“Well, that’s probably because you’re lying down as well as the painkiller and the IV.”

“Thanks. The headache is much better.”

“And your nausea?”

“How?”

“I’ve known you for a long time, Darius. I know how exhaustion affects you.”

“It’s there but manageable.”

“The others are searching for some food,” Harris says.

“That doesn’t seem all that manageable. I’d rather sleep than eat.”

“Except that you need to eat because I know that you haven’t all day.”

“I know but…” Darius gasps, grasping at his head as he turns and curls in.

“Darius?” Harris is at a loss for the cause and what to do, but then as quickly as it happens, it’s over and Darius is calming, breathing heavily. It’s when Darius pales more that Harris grabs a basin, shoving it under his chin with one hand while nudging him into a slightly sitting position with the other as Darius painfully brings up yellow bile followed by dry heaves. When he’s done, Harris’ arm is the only thing keeping him up and Harris feels the tremors and sweat from the vomiting.

Harris sets aside the basin and eases Darius back down. He finds a couple washcloths on a nearby shelf and slams them in cool water before wringing out the excess. With one, he cleans the bile that’s dripped down Darius’ chin and with the other, wipes the sweat from his face before folding it and laying it across Darius’ forehead.

“Are you still with me, Darius,” Harris asks quietly.

“Hmm?” Darius’ eyes are closed.

“What happened?”

“After…effects of…” Darius swallows, licking his lips. “Of the sonic…” Darius stops, wincing and clasping at his head again. It doesn’t seem as bad this time.

“Of the torture?”

Darius nods slightly, swallowing back the urge to throw up again.

“You going to throw up again?”

“I hope not.” Darius’ voice is rough. “That was terrible.”

“Here, have a little bit of water.” Harris brings a cup to his lips, lifting him up a little to make it easier to take a drink. Darius takes a few sips before refusing. The little bit of water doesn’t sit well.

“Harris.” Darius feels for the basin and Harris quickly picks up on the panic in his voice.

“Slow, steady breaths, Darius. You need to keep the water down. Okay?” He exaggerates the breathing pattern he wants Darius to imitate, hoping that the man will catch on. After a few rushed breathes, it works and Darius slows his breathing to match. It works too as Darius calms down, the panic leaving his face.

“This is the worst,” Darius says in a rare complaint.

“You have gotten yourself into quite the pickle, haven’t you.” Harris sighs, taking in Darius’ worn appearance. The coma and torture had left their marks on him and to go from unconscious for weeks to his usual breakneck pace had brought him crashing to the ground as hard as Harris had ever seen.

“Are you really going to make me eat?” Darius’ tone is weak and pleading.

“Yeah. I know you don’t want to but hopefully the others will find something light and easy on your stomach. They’re raiding your kitchen and the break room.”

“I’m not even sure what I have in the freezer. Everything’s so fuzzy.” He gasps lightly causing Harris to start until he realizes it’s nothing serious. “And thinking hurts.”

“Just try to relax.”

“The break room had some yogurt, chips, nuts, fruit snacks, and ramen packages,” Grace says as she and Jillian come back with a basket of food and electric kettle. In another basket, Jillian carries utensils, plates, cups, and some beverages.

“How does the yogurt sound, Darius,” Harris asks.

“Too much work. Just let me sleep.”

“Nope. You eat something first and then you can sleep.”

“In my own bed?”

“No. You need to be down here where we can keep an eye on you.”

“He has most of that equipment up in the Treehouse,” Alycia says. Her and Liam have some containers of what looks to be lasagna and spaghetti. “If you want him to stay on the EKG we’d have to take it up.”

“Of course you have a set up for this in your bedroom,” Harris says with a familiar sigh.

“That attitude just because I don’t like spending a night alone in here? You know before that asteroid I just had TESS and Klarissa and she has a family to go home to. And Laz, he was a good friend, but not with this sort of thing,” Darius says tiredly. His words give them all pause.

“Fine,” Harris says. “You eat enough to satisfy us and we’ll get you up to your bed.”

“So, I have options?”

“Well, I think the pasta is too heavy, but we did find some soup. I think it’s chicken,” Liam says, looking at the container.

“Probably is. I might be able to manage that.”

Liam and Alycia run off to heat the food up while the others work on getting some drinks together. They make up some tea, hoping that it might appeal to Darius more than water. Harris raises the head of the bed which leaves Darius nauseous and gives him another attack.

“Harris, next time give me something stronger,” Darius rasps as the pain subsides. On the other side of the room, Grace comforts Jillian who relives the time she spent watching him after the torture and the guilt of having failed to protect him. Grace would rather be with Darius, but Jillian needs her now. Things are settled when Liam and Alycia return with the food. The soup has been poured in a deep bowl, but it doesn’t come to the top of the dish. Grace sets a spoon on the side table that Harris moves so the table is over Darius’ lap.

“I can’t,” Darius says.

“Small bites,” Grace says. Darius sighs but grabs the spoon and stirs the soup. He looks down on it like it’s poison. His hand is unsteady as he brings a spoonful to his mouth. The second the chunk of chicken hits his tongue, he gags. Harris moves quickly, pulling away the tray and putting the basin back under his chin. The spoonful of soup immediately finds its way out of Darius’ mouth into the basin and more hacking follows. When he’s done, he leans against the bed, even more tired than before and panting as he tries to control his breathing.

“Please don’t. No more,” he begs them. He tunes out their commotion until something else appears in front of him. In his favorite mug is just the broth of the soup.

“I watered it down a little,” Grace says. “Drink it slowly. Once you drink it all and keep it down, you’ve met the food requirement.”

He looks at it and her skeptically.

“It works trust me. I do have a nineteen-year-old daughter after all.”

“It does work,” Harris adds when he sees Darius’ hesitation.

“If it doesn’t, then I’m done for now,” Darius says looking at them.

“If you give it a serious try and can’t then yes,” Grace concedes. The others go back to eating, except for Harris and Grace. Darius takes a hesitant sip. He wants to get this experiment over with and sleep. The mug is a better idea because it gives him a better grip and he doesn’t spill any soup on himself. After the first sip, he waits, feeling as it settles. There’s some nausea at first as the broth hits his tongue. But his stomach does accept it, so he takes another. For him, it’s a long process of sipping and waiting and he grows increasingly tired.

He’s not sure how much he's drunk but he knows that there’s still some left when the mug is taken from his hands and he jerks to alertness.

“Have to finish.” He reaches out for the mug.

“You’ve had enough for now,” Harris says pushing Darius’ hands down gently. “You ready to get up to the Treehouse?”

“Mhm,” Darius mumbles as his eyes drift closed.

“You two start unhooking him and I’ll find where he’s stashed the wheelchair,” Alycia says. Liam helps her look while Jillian sorts out their dishes and sets them in the break room. They’ll come down later to clean them. When the wheelchair is found, Darius is free of the IV, though Harris has kept the port in. The EKG leads are removed and the pulse ox is set aside. He doesn’t wake as they get him settled into the chair. Harris grabs the saline, the prefilled syringes, and a clean basin while Grace wheels Darius out. The six of them cram into the elevator and quickly get him set up again in his bed.

Darius, for his part, sleeps throughout it all. There’s a contented sigh when he’s laid on his own bed but nothing more. The fever is still there as are the clear lines of exhaustion, but the pinched look from the headache is gone. Darius seems to be on the mend. Still, they all take up places in the bedroom and living room to wait, relaxing and talking as they wait for Darius to recover.

“You know, I didn’t think you liked Darius this much,” Grace says. Her and Harris sit at Darius’ bedside. Liam and Jillian are out in the living room probably catching up on weeks of separation. Grace is happy to see that Alycia hasn’t completely isolated herself again. She’s busy on her computer but she’s stayed in the bedroom.

“You think I’d take some pleasure in him being sick?”

“No, but I thought you might have left by now not to mention all of those comments about having taken care of him before, knowing about his medical history.”

Harris chuckles lightly, drawing in a breath before speaking. “His idealism is catching you know. Even as a young man fresh out of MIT with terrible references for all of his inability to follow directions he’s got this charisma that makes you believe him. And what’s more, when you look him in the eyes it’s an honest charisma. There’s no deceit.”

“You went down one of his ‘I can solve this’ tracks.”

“Yes, and I looked after him. He had no one and hadn’t ever been taught common sense like getting proper sleep and taking a break to do nothing productive. His uncle made him think that things like this were weaknesses. He’s still fairly terrible at looking after himself but it’s mostly when he’s in the middle of a project. And you know by now Darius won’t even let a little thing like being President get in the way of his work.”

Grace smirks and nods. “So, was that it?”

“Was what it?”

“Darius once said that you were a company man and wouldn’t ever change.”

“We had a disagreement about a project. He wanted a little more time to work but I told him it was impossible. The military was wanting some concrete evidence. Something they could test and Darius wasn’t there yet. Everything he tried had failed. I had to side with the military and cut off the project. I tried to get him something else but by then he managed to berate a room of generals about their lack of consideration for the time that scientific advancement takes.”

“That sounds like Darius.”

“I’ve never forgotten his anger and disappointment.”

“I’m guessing he didn’t stick around much longer?”

“For all his unpredictability, it’s with the emotions when he’s the most predictable. He went back to his uncle soon after, got a deal to start his company I think. Next thing I knew, it seemed, there was Tanz Industries and the government was partnering with him.”

“He does seem to be the comeback kid,” Grace says.

“He needs a break though,” Alycia says looking up at them over her computer. “He’s not a stoic as you think. There are chinks in his armor, he just doesn’t let everyone see them.”

“Darius doesn’t really take breaks,” Harris says.

“That I know all too well, but you can’t disagree that he needs to.”

“No, you’re definitely right. But you know he’s going to want to investigate whatever it is that’s stopped right out there. And, as loathe as I am to admit it, he probably is among the best to investigate.”

“’race,” Darius says quietly.

“Do you need something, Darius,” Grace asks.

“Work. ‘ave to get t’ work.” He tries to move, but Grace quickly moves to hold him still.

“Work can wait. That asteroid…”

“Not an as’roid.”

“I know, but you need to rest. For more than a few hours,” she adds when he looks ready to protest further. “Now, are you in any pain, have any nausea? Do you want some water or something to eat?”

“No, no.” He shakes his head, shifting under the blankets. Then his breathing settles out again as he drifts into sleep. They go back to talking and plotting until Darius wakes with a gasp, rolling onto his side as he clutches his head with his hands. Liam and Jillian, hearing the noise, come into the bedroom, joining the others in waiting helplessly until Darius is out of pain.

It seems to be the worse yet, lasting just over a minute. By the end, Darius is out of breath and Alycia quickly finds the oxygen and sets the nasal cannula on him. Grace runs a hand up and down his back to try to calm him, talking with him gently. Just as his breathing seems to be evening out, he begins coughing. Harris and Alycia get him sitting up which seems to set off another attack. It doesn’t last long but he’s spent and still struggling to take a breath around the coughing. Harris just catches him before he collapses on his side.

“What do we do,” Liam asks. “He doesn’t seem to be getting better.”

“Just what we’re doing,” Grace says voice steady. “He’ll get better. This is just his day catching up with him. His body didn’t like the 0 to 60 attitude.” Meanwhile, Harris tries to coach Darius through steadying his breathing and Alycia switches out the nasal cannula for the mask. Still, they all feel rather helpless, watching as Darius starts taking deeper, less panicked breaths. Harris doesn’t expect the sudden bonelessness of Darius once he’s no longer struggling and nearly falls backward with the added pressure.

“Is he,” Grace asks.

“Still here,” Darius says, voice muffled by the mask and weak from exhaustion.

“How’s the pain?”

“Fine.”

“A serious response please.”

“No… point. Still, have… a few more hours.” Darius is quickly losing the little energy he had as well as the battle with his pain.

“Few more hours?”

“Until another dose of painkillers,” Harris says. “You need a change of clothes and a washcloth.”

“Bed,” Darius croaks.

“Once you’re cleaned up a little. It’ll help you feel a little better. For now, just rest. We’ll take care of things.” He starts unhooking Darius from the oxygen and IV, so they can get the scrub top off.

“I could only find pajama bottoms.” Liam holds up the pants.

“Look behind the shirts. There’s at least a couple hanging up,” Harris says. Jillian comes out of the bathroom with a bowl of water and a couple washcloths. Between her, Alycia, and Grace they get him cleaned up while Harris keeps him sitting up. Then they get him dressed in the clothes Liam brings and set back up with the medical equipment. All throughout, Darius doesn’t make much noise outside of some gasps and coughs. He’s nearly asleep when they lay him back down.

They all try to settle into something other than just sitting there watching him sleep but find that every movement and noise makes them jump.

“We should all go get cleaned up and take a little time for ourselves,” Grace says. She sees them look at each other, waiting for one to make the first move. “Not all at once. A couple at a time.”

“There’s plenty of rooms here and you’re welcome to use the bathrooms,” Liam says. “And if you don’t mind wearing the Tanz logo, I’m sure Darius won’t mind if we raid the supply closet for clean clothes.”

When no one objects, Liam, Alycia, and Jillian head downstairs to get an array of clothing. It’s all sweatpants and shirts, but the essentials are there. The next several hours are then spent showering and relaxing in rotations. Darius has a few more small attacks, but he wakes only long enough for the pain to reach a peak and then, when it fades, he dozes back off. When it’s clear that the breathing isn’t a big issue anymore, they switch back to the cannula for his comfort.

At nearly five in the morning Darius wakes with the urgent need to pee, the third time that night.

“It’s your fault,” Darius says as Harris helps him stand. He’s a little unsteady after the long night but once he’s on his feet and moving, Harris just follows from a couple feet behind. Harris stops at the door, closing it off as Darius goes in. It’s been a relatively calm night since the one attack shortly after midnight. He expects the rest of the night to go just as calmly but when he hears a thump, he knocks and calls out.

“What’s wrong,” Alycia asks walking up next to him. The others are out in the living room dozing on the couches.

Harris holds a finger for silence. He hears a gasp and nothing else. “Darius, I’m coming in.” When he opens the door, he’s alarmed by what he sees and closes the short distance to kneel at Darius’ side. On the floor, in front of the toilet, is Darius, lying fully dressed on his side and unconscious.

“He’s alive but his pulse is racing,” Harris says. He carefully checks for bumps and bleeding on Darius’ head. Darius chooses then to wake with a gasp and clutches his head with his hands.

“Another attack,” Alycia says. It doesn’t last long but it leaves Darius out of it.

“He’s got a bump on the back of his head.”

“So definitely a concussion which is exactly what he needed right now.”

“Darius, are you back with us,” Harris asks.

“Hurts,” Darius says breathlessly.

“I’m sure it does. Anything new hurting? Anything worse than usual?”

“Head.”

“That’s probably because you hit your head.”

“Sonic.”

“You had an attack before and then fell.”

“Dizzy.”

“He really should be in a hospital,” Alycia says.

“No,” Darius starts.

“She happens to be right but you’re in luck,” Harris says. “The hospitals are still closed. Everything is. So, right now, it’s back to bed for you. Do you think you can stand?”

“Not carrying me.”

“As you wish. Let’s get you sitting up first.”

Darius tries to push himself up but most of the effort is done by Harris and Alycia, who steady him as he finds the change of position hard. His head rolls and his face pales. Alycia grabs the trash can just in case, but they don’t need it. Darius slowly recovers, gaining some color back in his face. It’s when they get him to his feet that he nearly passes out and Harris has to resort to carrying him back to bed.

“Nuh,” Darius mumbles as Harris is carrying him.

“Just calm down.” Harris quickly gets him to his bed and sets him down. Darius quickly rolls onto his side, curling up a bit as he pulls the covers over his head.

“Should’ve taken the better painkiller,” he groans from under the blankets.

“The worst may pass with a little rest. Give me your arm.”

“Think I’ve had enough.”

“Have you had anything in the last day that you’ve kept down?”

“Harris.” Darius doesn’t hide the whine.

“Once you’re eating and drinking regularly, then I’ll stop it. Dehydration is not something you need right now.”

“Fine.”

“And pull the blanket down. I want to check your vitals.”

“Harris, you’re a real mother hen, you know that.” Darius pulls down the blanket and glares at Harris. Between Harris and Alycia, they reattach the IV and pulse ox, check his temperature, which is under 100 finally, and check his reaction for a concussion.

“So, what’s the verdict?”

“You’re getting better and the concussion isn’t bad.”

“Head still hurts.”

“Get some rest then.”

“I was trying to when a certain mother hen decided to disturb me.”

“Shut up and go to sleep, Darius,” Harris says lightly. It’s a command that Darius is more than willing to obey though his aching head prevents him from truly relaxing. It’s going to be a longer recovery than he likes but, it seems he won’t be alone. He’d expected most of them to have gone off on their own. Alycia probably would’ve stuck around and Grace too but not Harris. And Liam and Jillian, he figured they’d be making up for lost time.  But they’d all stayed and looked after him. His family, the makeshift one that turned out to be better than his real one save for his mother. Maybe he would take that break after all. He’d never had a family to spend his free time with. It might make it more worthwhile.


End file.
